


Welcome Home

by murdochinthetardis



Category: Wynonna Earp - Fandom
Genre: tags to be updated as more parts are posted
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-07-14
Packaged: 2019-06-10 08:09:09
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15287373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/murdochinthetardis/pseuds/murdochinthetardis
Summary: So much about Wyatt Earp remains unknown. The gunslinger became a legend, a story, nothing but a name. He's held so high above everyone else, nobody knows the real Wyatt. But when he returns to Purgatory, everything around him has changed. The truth about Wyatt starts coming out. His flaws, his fears, his real story. After all, Wyatt Earp is just a man.Or rather he was just a man.





	Welcome Home

Blinking his eyes, Wyatt looked up at the sun. He was lying on the ground in the grass. He sat up, his hat nearly falling off his head with the motion. Where was he?

A graveyard. Rows upon rows of tombstones were lined up before him. Some crumbled with age and neglect, others were surrounded by flowers left by loved ones. The grass was surprisingly green around all of them, clearly well kept. It was startling how much life could be brought to so much death.

Wyatt stood up and put on his hat. He didn't remember falling asleep here. In all honesty, he couldn't really remember much at all. His memory was hazy, like trying to see through a thick fog.

However, something seemed to call to Wyatt. An invisible force beckoned the gunslinger to follow it, tugging at his very being.

So follow he did. Wyatt walked along the road into town. It was Purgatory for sure. It was home. Yet at the same time it was different. People were wearing strange clothes- though perhaps it was more accurate to call Wyatt the strange one, he felt incredibly out of place. Familiar shops had been replaced with newer ones selling items Wyatt didn't even recognise. He stood in awe, looking through the window at this box with a moving picture.

A man walked out of the building with a large cardboard box in his hand. Wyatt tipped his hat at him but the man didn't seem to notice the gesture. Maybe the gunslinger should try to talk to some locals, figure out what was going on.

Wyatt continued down the street, about to cross the road when a vehicle came barreling towards him at top speed. Some sort of oddly shaped automobile. He leapt back, cursing the driver the whole time.

He dashed across the road when it was safe. “Excuse me, ma'am!” Wyatt called, trying to get the attention of a red headed woman in uniform. “I was wondering if you could perhaps help-”

The woman walked off without even looking at Wyatt. “Rude…” he huffed.

Something about a nearby building caught his eye. Shorty’s saloon. There was a saloon here, Wyatt remembered, back in the Purgatory he knew. By God, he could use a drink.

A pair of men walked out, the two both too engaged in conversation to even acknowledge the gunslinger. Wyatt walked through the open door and up to the bar.

“What does a man have to do to get a drink these days?” Wyatt laughed. The bartender turned around and the smile slid off Wyatt’s face. “Doc?”

It was the same Doc Holliday, without a doubt. Same face, same sharp eyes, even the same holster around his waist. Memories came flooding back. His partner, the man who was always at the side… until the deal. But that didn’t matter now, Doc was back!

Wyatt leaned against the counter. “God, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes. I can’t tell you how happy I am to see you again.”

Doc didn’t reply. He just sighed and rolled his sleeve up further.

“John, I know we didn’t depart on friendly terms, but don't act like this. Not to me,” Wyatt said. “I searched for you far and wide and now I’ve finally found you! And- and you ignore me? Doc, what’s going on?!”

Doc looked up at Wyatt and smiled. “Wynonna!”

“What?”

Wyatt heard footsteps approach as someone walked up behind him- as someone walked _through_ him. He jumped out of the way as the person leaned right though his body, arms resting on the bar counter.

“Hey,” The woman greeted. She shivered. “Did you turn the AC on?”

“The who now?”

“Air conditioning, Doc.”

“What the hell?!” Wyatt exclaimed. “What- how- Doc!” He frantically waved his hand in front of his old friend’s face and got no response. Instinctively he reached for his gun. The holster was empty.

Peacemaker wasn’t there. Doc couldn’t see him. People passed through him. Purgatory was different. The graveyard he woke up in. Wyatt started to put the pieces together.

Wyatt remembered falling asleep. He remembered how heavy his body felt when he closed his eyes one last time. It didn't feel heavy anymore. He remembered the day he lost Doc, but he remembered far past that. The curse, his son, his family, the house he settled in, the house he _died_ in.

“I’m dead.”

Wyatt took another look at the woman who walked through him. She wore a leather jacket and tight denim pants. She had his son’s eyes, he noticed. God, Josiah. He’d be dead now too. Wyatt prayed that his time hadn’t been cut too short.

Most importantly, the woman had Wyatt’s gun. Peacemaker hung at her hip like it belonged there. She was an heir. She was an Earp.

“Wynonna Earp…” Wyatt mumbled. “Has a nice ring to it.”

He felt that tug within him again and let it guide him. His hand raised up towards Peacemaker, of course.

“Wynonna?” Doc said, his voice apprehensive.

“What?”

“Your gun is glowing.”

Peacemaker’s barrel lit up blue, the symbols in the metal glowing. It grew brighter the closer Wyatt’s hand got to it.

Wynonna looked down at it. “Shit!” She pulled it from the holster and looked it over. The light faded as it was moved away from Wyatt’s ghostly form.

Doc frowned. “Why is it doing that?”

“I don’t know, I don’t speak gun!” Wynonna retorted.

Wyatt chuckled. He liked her, she had spirit. Well, technically he did. He was the spirit here.

“She’s only done this twice.” Wynonna muttered.

“Invisible revenant?” Doc suggested.

“Close, but no,” Wyatt sighed.

“Fuck, not again,” Wynonna groaned. “I sure hope not.”

Wyatt didn’t have much personal experience with ghosts but he’d heard many a tale of them. They could move things around, right? Send furniture flying? It was worth a shot.

He put his focus on a bar stool and grabbed it. His hands passed through the seat like they were made of mist. Something smaller maybe. He pushed a glass on the counter. Again, nothing. It didn’t budge.

“Damn it all to hell!” Wyatt growled, swinging his arm in anger. His hand hit the glass and it fell to the ground, smashing against the floor.

Doc and Wynonna looked at it. “I must have knocked it over…” Doc muttered.

“Oh come on!” Wyatt groaned. He sunk down onto the counter, repeatedly banging his head against it.

Wynonna looked around the bar, stopping when Peacemaker glowed again in her hand. She followed the direction where it got brighter, pointing the gun right at Wyatt. “Here. There’s something here.”

“Yes, there is!” Wyatt grumbled. “Me!”

“I’m gonna call Dolls,” Wynonna said, staring right at Wyatt but not seeing him. “He might know what’s going on.”

Doc nodded. “I think that’s a mighty fine choice.”


End file.
